Jaclyn was found dead by the Cherion corporation with numerous tubes and and wires coming from her body.
Date of Birth: January 4th
Hair: Pitched Brown
Eyes: Blue Grey
Weight: 109 Lbs
Puca (or Pooka), Jaclyn’s horror alters its shape with moderate frequency every couple hours between a cat a horse and a dog, all with the same mangy black hair, grey-blue eyes and sickly, almost cadaverous complexion.
Jaclyn had a mostly normal life. She lived in a normal house. She ate normal food. She had normal friends. She even went to a normal school. Back when she lived in Baltimore, everything was just that: normal. Yeah, maybe every once in awhile the girl caught something moving in the corner of her eye. Maybe she was treated for depression at an early age -who wasn’t nowadays? Maybe she was diagnosed with Nightmare Disorder at 13, usually associated with PTSD or small children. Maybe, maybe, maybe. True, all of those things did happen, but other than the slight embarrassment at having to see a shrink once a week to talk about how she was still having bad dreams, her life was going about how it was expected.
Then, her family moved, and everything went to hell.
Her father got a job offer in Toronto Canada, the kind which you get once in a lifetime and refusal is ludicrous. Some big software company, fortune 500, blah, blah, blah, Jaclyn even to this day doesn’t recall all of the details. The problem is, her father died in a car crash two years later. Money wasn’t the issue, they were not rich, but they could get by off her Mom’s salary alone. What mattered was the dreams. What had once been nightmares became full fledged monstrosities of horror. Nightly parades of damnation tore through the girl’s skull to the point where she would chug 5-hour energies just to stay awake. If her mother noticed she just assumed it was grief; and for a while Jaclyn let herself think that it was. It made sense after all, perhaps that was why she wasn’t as crushed by her father’s death as everyone appeared to think she should be. It wasn’t that she had not loved the man, it was just… after the shock wore off, he was still dead. She cried for a while, then it was gone. Part of her hated herself for that. And it was this part of her that hoped these new-found quaking slumbers were some suppressed form of despair.
Months went by. Nothing changed. She began to loose hope as her sanity drew closer to that dark place of the mind. Then it happened. The voice in her dreams; the creature that whispered the truths she dared not acknowledge; it finally caught up with her. It offered the cowering dreamer a choice. The choice of relief and purpose, or darkness and freedom.
She chose. And deep down she regrets the implications of that decision to this day.
Sadie: Sadie is somewhat strange. She doesn’t seem to be phased easily and takes everything in a stride. I wish I could be like her… I’m just not sure how.
Roy: Kind of a jerk. I understand, I mean, it’s not like I can take the high horse on self control in these kinds of situations, but when he rages it is like a thunder cloud. Nothing can stop him when he gets going.
Rayan: Not my most favorite Prof, nor my least. All in all he was kind of mediocre, unotable. Then he appeared in the custody of a sadistic monster-cult and managed to hold a lucid conversation with a gut wound and scratched retinas. What kind of teacher is this guy?
Audrey Stone: Well, she is not trying to kill me, that is a plus, right?
Erasmus Karras: Wait, was he just flirting with me?
Mother: I love my Mom, the problem is, I am just not entirely certain how much i like her. Ever since Dad died she doesn’t so much seem to care what I say as much as what she hears. To her everything has a deeper meaning. I am not just asking for a loan, I am reaffirming the notion that I cannot be trusted to measure my budget. It is maddening.